Music Taste
by thirteen's vodka
Summary: "Is that Cola by Lana Del Rey?" JJ discovers Blake's weird taste in music.


**A/N:** Slight AU because JJ and Will aren't together in this story, but Henry still exists and JJ ends up being a single mom. Also, Blake and James have separated but they haven't divorced yet. Rated T because of suggested sexual themes.

Don't own Criminal Minds, Elle, Blake, and Kate wouldn't have left too soon if I owned it.

It's late at night, maybe even morning; Jennifer Jareau doesn't even bother taking a glance at the circular, black-framed analog clock hanging above the mirror spanning her height and a few inches wider. However, she does stare at the window for a good moment to notice that pitch black sky lit up by millions of brilliantly bright stars. Odd. It seemed like moments ago she was only greeting Reid 'Good morning!' as she stepped off the elevator to start her day.

 _He's probably gone home by now._

There was no case today. No unsub that needed to be caught. No lives that needed to be saved. _Ha, there could've been. We just don't have info on them yet. Like we always do._ It didn't seem to bother her at first, since she'd woken up on the wrong side of the bed today. She managed to keep up with her 'chirpy' attitude, though there was that one moment when Morgan decided to play that damn game trashketball on her desk, and that she managed to shock the normally confident man back to his own desk with the colourful wording she had chosen to shake him off her leg. "I didn't know you could be capable of that kind of speech," she recalled Reid speaking to her afterwards. It then dawned on her a few minutes after that the whole bullpen had gone quiet after her supposedly private moment with Morgan.

Now, it would've been a bit nice if she had a bit of fresh air when on the field. Paperwork didn't distract her as much as the adrenaline she had when tailing down an unsub on a case. She still wondered to this day how Garcia could manage being on her butt all day long (besides her massive love of computers, though). Still, it doesn't fail to keep her mind off of her co-workers as she finally notices that most of them had already gone back to their homes.

"My pussy tastes like pepsi cola!"

The lyric throws her off her train of thought. It comes out of nowhere—no, somewhere in the bullpen perhaps. She bursts out of the bathroom just to be sure it isn't her mind deceiving her ears once more; it isn't. The soft, sultry voice accompanied with an elegant instrumental are too familiar for the blonde to not notice. What she doesn't expect is that when she steps back into the bullpen, it isn't Garcia (as she had mentioned before that she adores the woman so much) that's bopping along to the rather explicit lyrics.

"Is that Cola by Lana Del Rey?" JJ finally asks after repositioning herself to a more formal pose, trying to manage her professionalism in front of her co-worker.

Alex Blake sits cross-legged, her eyes analysing the report she held with one of her hands, and the other fiddling with a few strands of her chestnut hair. She hears the familiar voice through the blaring music of Lana Del Rey, mortified as she dares raise her head up to face the blonde. Rather than display her dismay in front of her younger co-worker, she sets down the report file in her hand on the desk and flashes a weak smile while folding her fingers together.

"Yes, it is." Her tone is completely nonchalant, as if she had expected JJ to act indifferent with her song choice. "She's a very colourful artist," she further adds. "Are you uncomfortable with it?"

"No!" JJ answers rather too quickly, biting her lower lip in embarrassment. "No, I mean," she sighs, "I never expected _this_."

Blake furrows her eyebrow, teasing the blonde a tiny bit. "What do you mean exactly?" She reaches for her iPod to lower the volume just to see if she can push some of JJ's buttons.

Said agent's cheeks are tomato red. "Her! I mean, Lana Del Rey, really?" she rhetorically questions. "You and her? I'd never thought that anyone in the BAU, besides Garcia but she's Garcia for fuck's sake, would have the dignity to listen to her, especially you."

"What do you have against Lana anyways?" Oh, Blake is really enjoying this.

"It's not that, it's just," she fails to resist rolling her eyes in frustration of her difficulty in vocabulary at the moment, "it's just that Lana—she's very melancholic. Teenagers are usually the ones listening to her because of the relativity between their struggles and Lana's lyrics, and that attracts them to her. I guess it's just shocking that someone as well put as you can admire a mess of emotions as Lana Del Rey is."

Blake understands, really. She should know, though; JJ's a goddamn profiler, of course. It still amuses her that the blonde was so flustered at how _vivid_ her music taste was. She scrolls through her playlist until she taps another song to throw JJ off even more. The instrumental of "Bubblegum Bitch" blares through the tiny iPod as Blake taps her shoe to the beat.

"Oh come on!" JJ knows already that Blake was only teasing her, but that knowledge only pushed her embarrassment even further. Deep blue eyes meet dark brown, spotting the suddenly enlargement of the chestnut-haired agent's pupils. JJ's eyes travel down and notice that the older woman was biting her lower lip.

The blonde sparks up an idea. "Did Garcia give you any song recommendations?"

Blake simply gawks at her.

"I would never—"

"Morgan and Reid have attempted to 'shock' me for so long Garcia was once convinced that I was actually a robot."

The older woman clicks her tongue, eyeing JJ again with a skeptical look on her face. She wonders why the blonde hadn't felt so loose and relaxed. It isn't why she was doing this whole fucking ruse, though. That's another long story to tell. "No, this doesn't have to do with Garcia whatsoever," she finally answers, her eyes still trained on the blonde.

Where JJ stands confidently, she suddenly finds herself squirming back into a blushing embarrassment. "Am I reacting to this a little too much?" The words spill out of her mouth before she notices, and it's too late to take anything back now.

"Not at all," Blake responds at almost the same time JJ reacts to her sudden awkward question. "No, really, I've had my fair share of similar reactions like yours." She stands up. "Really, JJ, it's nothing to be embarrassed about. My music taste is weird and awkward. I get that. I get that a lot."

She then sighs. "Well, I don't know. I don't even know what the hell I was doing when I decided to blare out that fucking song in the middle of the night. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm so fucking dumb because the linguist in me is failing to do its job, and it feels like the vocabulary has left me helpless. JJ, oh what the hell am I doing with my life?" She takes another breath. "I'm fucking babbling, aren't I?"'

"I have absolutely no idea what you're saying, Alex," she brutally replies.

Blake scoffs. "I'm not in a mid-life crisis if that's what you're thinking. I genuinely adore artists like Lana Del Rey and Marina and The Diamonds; they both are lyricists that I do believe they know what they're doing. I just never thought it would be something I'd share with someone else because the relevancy of it is lacking." She shakes her head. "Until now, I suppose."

The tone in her voice makes something in JJ click; a sign, perhaps? The woman was entering a side of the chestnut-haired agent that was almost forbidden to be released to the face of the earth, she realises. It's Alex Blake's most vulnerable side; reduced to babbling nonsense and furiously red cheeks, JJ finally understands the reason the older woman couldn't help herself. She almost quivers herself to the thought of Blake actually struggling because of it.

It still doesn't make the situation any less awkward. She still doesn't even know if what she concluded is actually why Blake feels this way. For all she could know, this was still a cruel joke played by Morgan to see if she'd actually fall for it.

 _Oh, for fuck's sake, JJ, make up your mind!_

"Okay, dammit," she mutters to herself as she walks up with a short-lived confidence to the older woman, closes the distance between them with a palm on her cheek, and seals the deal with a searing kiss after not being able to withstand the hot breaths that tickled her shoulderblades. The kiss, at first, was tentative and shocking, but it takes a few seconds for JJ to realise that Blake was adding weight on her, desperate to explore more of this newfound bliss that is the blonde's lips. She feels the other woman's hands slithering down to her hips as she parts her mouth to taste the woman's kiss—it's a mixture of mango and sherbert, to her surprise.

They part in what seems like hours, and they're practically breathless from each other. Blake grins, eyes lighting up when she takes a gaze at the younger woman shrinking back to a shy, heated mess.

She chuckles. "Wow, okay, I really didn't expect that." She then realises her hands still had a hold on JJ's hips, but she doesn't let go. "But that doesn't mean that I didn't like a single second of it."

"Oh." JJ weakly laughs, still embarrassed at her furiously red cheeks. "I'm sorry," she apologises, taking her hands off of the older woman's shoulders. "I'm just really bad at this."

Blake almost laughs at her, but not in a judgemental way. She too is horrible at this type of stuff—love—and she's smiling like an idiot, ridiculously infatuated by the blonde. "Why are you the one feeling sorry about this?" she inquires. "I'm the one who got you feeling ridiculed, and you're partially right; I admit that I do ask Garcia for advice, but this is all on me." She scoffs. "I'm a seasoned FBI Agent, but I don't even have the confidence to confront my damn feelings."

"Then let's start over." JJ realises how demanding her tone was, though before she could apologise again, Blake smiles and plants a light, passionate kiss on her lips.

"It's so ridiculous," the older woman muses, her breath tickling the blonde's jaw. "All of this happened in a matter of moments just because I decided to play a song musing about how Lana's freaking pussy tastes like pepsi cola."

JJ rolls her eyes. "Aren't you curious though? Or maybe we could—"

"Oh my God, JJ, shut up!"

 _Oh my God, JJ, please continue!_

"Hey, okay, we'll do that another time," the blonde suggests, parting herself completely from the brunette. "Maybe we could start with a date? Let's say, Friday night at my place? We could watch rom-coms, eat popcorn and anything junk food, and wear oversized hoodies while cuddling and falling asleep on my really fluffy new couch."

Blake's lips curve into a warm smile. "Yes, I'd very much like that, JJ."

 **A/N:** Really horrible with endings, they always seem too rushed. It's very frustrating considering the fact that I've been writing this on and off for three days, but it's my first completed one-shot in forever, so I hope I can get back the amount of writing I used to do back in 2015 (so many one-shots with 3k-4k words)! I guess Wattpad really took a toll on my creative thinking; I rushed everything while I was on that site.

Anyways, I've missed writing on this site; I haven't gotten this refreshed reading fics since the last time I visited this site before I abandoned it for Wattpad. Thank you very for reading!


End file.
